cuddys_house | Next afternoon

Next afternoon

When House arrived home, he didn't know what to do with himself. After he stashed his things away in the closet, he went straight to the kitchen to fetch the bourbon and a glass, deposited himself onto the couch and switched on the television. He didn't want to think, about anything. He didn't want to think about Cuddy, he didn't want to think about the fight they'd had, he definitely didn't want to think about the fact that she was pregnant. He simply couldn't wrap his head around it. He wouldn't wrap his head around it. Worse, he couldn't deal with the likely possibility that he and Cuddy were finished.

Maybe they weren't, but that was how it felt right now to him, and he couldn't work out if he felt angry or devastated about that. If he was angry, he was angry at himself for allowing himself to get so close to Cuddy. He should have known he was setting himself up to be hurt because this was how it always ended for him – a relationship ending in ruins because of a situation that was out of his control. And if he was devastated, it was because he was genuinely devastated that he'd just not only lost a relationship, he'd lost a friend, too. A couple of times he almost picked the phone up to call Cuddy, except he had no idea what he'd say to her if he did. A couple of times he almost called Wilson because... well, because he was Wilson. House did neither, however; he watched the TV blankly, feeling sorrier and sorrier for himself the drunker he got, until he felt so drunk he could barely make his eyes focus.

By the time morning came, he felt awful. He was miserable, had a pounding headache, and he felt like the entire weight of the world was on his shoulders. So much for drinking his problems away: when he woke up, everything from the day before came rushing back and he was right back at square one. He didn't want to go into work because he didn't want to deal with Cuddy. He didn't want to stay at home, either, because that would mean sitting around, dwelling on everything. So, he dragged himself out of bed and begrudgingly showered and got ready for work.

Not wanting people to get on his case about anything once he was at work, he determinedly pulled himself together and made it seem like he was fine, like there was nothing wrong... which meant he was way more hostile, caustic and cynical towards anyone who talked to him. Not that many people got to speak to him all that much because he spent most of the day shut up in his office, avoiding the world as much as he was avoiding any and all issues that confronted him.

Come mid-afternoon, however, he couldn't stand being holed up in his office any longer. He wasn't really sure if he needed to vent or talk or if he just needed to see a familiar face that he felt safe enough around, but when he left his office he headed straight down the hall to Wilson's office. He didn't knock or even check to see if Wilson was in a consult, just barged through the door, though he shut it quietly behind him. He stood in the middle of Wilson's office, probably looking as troubled as he felt and after a few moments, he then moved across to the glass door that overlooked the balcony which joined their offices.

He tried to think of something to say. Except now he was here, he couldn't think of anything to say, and he didn't want to just blurt out that Cuddy was pregnant and what the fuck was he going to and by the way he was pretty sure he'd ended it with her even though that wasn't what he wanted and, oh by the way, he'd been seeing Cuddy for the past almost month, sorry I forgot to tell you. So, he just stood there silently, staring out at the cloudy day. The clouds were low and some of them dark. It would probably start raining soon because those were definitely rain clouds.

“What a crap afternoon,” he finally said.

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Wilson tossed the remains of his late lunch in the trash and stood up to stretch. He listened to few vertebrae pop back into place, then sat down...and realized he had nothing to do. Oh, sure, he had a few patients to check on that afternoon, clinic hours to complete, but he was caught up on everything else: his dictations, his correspondance, even his journal reading. He was normally very diligent about his work but he couldn't remember the last time he'd had absolutely no backlog. Well, actually, he could. It was before he'd met House.

The truth was, Wilson's current state of caught-up-ness was entirely due to the fact that House had been remarkably absent lately. He'd been absent from Wilson's office, his balcony, even his hotel room. His behavior had been unusual and it worried Wilson. Of course, House's normal behavior also worried Wilson but at least then he knew what to expect. House's recent withdrawal...Wilson wasn't sure what was causing it and he didn't know what it was leading to. Given that, with House, anything was possible, it was reasonable to be worried.

And as the old saying went: speak of the devil....

"I'm great. Thanks for asking," Wilson said dryly when House moved quietly through the office without so much as a hello. He leaned back in his chair and waited for House to give him a reason for the visit. He frowned slightly when all House had to offer was a subdued comment on the weather.

"And crap afternoon is a metaphor for...the Red Sox chance for a pennant? The dismal exchange rate between the euro and the dollar which means that Swedish flight attendant really is out of your league?" Wilson gave a wave of his hand before House could interject. "You know what? It's been a while and my interpretive skills are a little rusty. Why don't you just tell me why it's a crap afternoon?"

Normally, House would have found Wilson's sarcasm amusing. One of the things he'd always appreciated about Wilson was his dry sense of humour. But he was feeling anything but amused and therefore couldn't muster it in him to find anything amusing about Wilson's dry remarks. He just continued to stare out through the glass.

Why didn't he tell Wilson was it was a crap afternoon? Because he wasn't sure if he wanted to. And he wasn't even sure where to begin. Or what to do. Or if he even wanted to discuss why it was a crap afternoon. Or the fact that he didn't even want to think about why it was a crap afternoon, except he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He lowered his eyes from the door and dropped his head, then turned his head to the side just enough so he could see Wilson in his peripheral vision. After a few moments he looked back to the glass door.

"It's a metaphor for I have a problem," he replied. He paused, then admitted, "And I don't know what to do."

"Seriously?"

Wilson waited for a moment, expecting an explanation or, more likely, a punch line. When he didn't get it, he leaned forward, forearms resting on the desk, and took a long, hard look at House. What he could see of him, anyway, since House seemed to be fixated on something outside the balcony door. What he could see, though, was that House seemed to be genuinely down about something.

"You are serious, aren't you?" Wilson felt like he'd been out of the loop--House's loop--almost since the shooting. Definitely since House had come back to work. All he really knew was that his friend had been hiding in his office a lot, and when he wasn't he'd been especially snappish with people. It wasn't a great surprise, then, to find out that House was troubled about something.

"Do you...want to talk about it?"

House turned his head again when Wilson asked if he wanted to talk about his problem. Problems, more accurately. He wished he wasn't serious. He wished he could just wave his hand and make his problems magically disappear without having to face or deal with them. That was how he usually dealt with personal problems because he wasn't usually willing to confront personal stuff. But it wasn't every day he was in a relationship with someone he had deep feelings for, and it wasn't every day he found out that he'd impregnated a woman. So, his problems were a lot harder to ignore.

On top of all of that was the fact he'd gotten shot. And his nightmares. And how he wasn't sleeping well and felt exhausted, and not just because he was stressed about the latest turn of events. If he was honest with himself, he was feeling very close to exploding from the pressure of stress, because he really wasn't handling stress too well lately. The smallest things could set him off into a rage, not to mention the huge, life changing things.

He turned around fully to face Wilson, though didn't look straight at Wilson. He lifted a hand and ran his fingers over his forehead before limping slowly across the room to the chair in front of Wilson's desk. He sat down, his holding his cane between his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. He tapped the cane on the floor a few times, then ran his hand over his face with a sigh.

He still didn't know where to begin and probably wouldn't no matter how much time he stalled for. So, he decided to just start at the beginning.

"I've been seeing someone," he began, staring down at the handle of his cane like it was fascinating.

Wilson blinked. Then he blinked again. "You do realize that hiring the same hooker twice doesn't count as a relationship?"

House was seeing someone? Well, that was...unexpected. House generally resisted any hint of a relationship, and had since Stacy. He'd hadn't exactly been a man on the make before Stacy but afterwards he'd actively avoided any possibility of a romantic entanglement. Wilson honestly thought House would rather be tortured than fall in love.

"That's good, right? Wait, of course it's good. Seeing someone is good. It's healthy." Truthfully, Wilson wasn't sure it was good, not judging by House's demeanor. Then again, it would just like House to get depressed about being in a relationship. The man had a truly twisted view of human relationships of any kind. And he'd never known House to voluntarily do anything healthy.

"So how is that related to your problem? Or is it simply the fact that you're seeing someone that bothers you?" Wilson was almost more curious as to what kind of woman could've drawn House back into the dating game. House being uncomfortable about dating was predictable. A woman who could handle House was something rare. "And who is this someone you're seeing?"

House shot Wilson a dark look. While he could usually brush off jibes about his love life - or lack thereof, up until Cuddy - he was currently extremely sensitive about it. He had to remind himself quickly, before he snapped at Wilson, that Wilson didn't know about any relationship he'd been having. He drew in a deep breath and looked back down when Wilson started questioning whether him being in a relationship was good or not.

He almost snorted sarcastically when Wilson said it was healthy to be in a relationship. Yeah, right. Nothing healthy had come out of yesterday. And seeing Cuddy, getting close to her, had done nothing but set himself up to be hurt so, no, seeing someone wasn't good. Except when things between Cuddy and himself had been good, they'd been fantastic. Which of course only further reminded him of how much that horrible fight with Cuddy hurt.

"Yeah, it's like a Jane Fonda workout," House replied sarcastically, shooting Wilson another look.

He dropped his gaze again, though, at Wilson's next question. He rubbed his fingers over his mouth a little anxiously and heaved another, quiet sigh before looking away across the other side of Wilson's office. He didn't know how to answer either of Wilson's questions. He could answer the last one, though. But he was hesitant to do so, simply because... well, he just was. He wasn't looking forward to any questions Wilson might fire at him or any remarks he might make or any surprised looks Wilson might give him.

He thumped his cane a few times on the floor again, stalling for time, until he finally, hesitantly drew his eyes towards Wilson and met Wilson's gaze. He couldn't hold the eye contact very long, however, and he dropped his eyes away. He thumped his cane a few more times and turned his head to look the other direction, at Wilson's bookshelf.

"Cuddy," House finally said, trying to keep his tone casual. He decided not to answer Wilson's other questions, about what this had to do with his problem, for now. If anything, he wanted to avoid them just like he wanted to avoid his problems altogether.

"Cuddy? Lisa 'Evil Overlord out to ruin your fun' Cuddy?" Wilson gave a small, surprised shake of his head. "Wow."

He shouldn't be surprised. As long as he'd known the two of them, they'd been circling each other in a sort of cat and mouse kind of flirtation. It wasn't surprising that they'd be attracted either. Despite the way House talked, he wasn't only interested in the physical and Cuddy had the intelligence and spirit to interest him. And obviously she had the body.

As far as Cuddy's attraction to House...well, Wilson wasn't sure he could explain that as easily but he knew it was true. He knew she cared about House, a lot. No one would put up with House's antics, no one would worry so much about him without caring. She happened to be one of the few people who could appreciate House's better points while tolerating his less pleasant attributes.

Actually, though, that was why it was surprising. They'd been engaged in this odd flirtation for years and, as far as Wilson knew, they'd never taken the next step. The big question was why had House chosen now to pursue it? Wilson had no doubt it was House who'd made the first move simply because he couldn't see House getting into any relationship without being the one in control. Why now? Why Cuddy? And why hadn't he told Wilson?

Wilson hadn't forgotten that House had said he had a problem, followed immediately by the revelation he was dating Cuddy. He suspected there was a connection between the two. Wilson rubbed his chin and tried not to get distracted by all his other questions.

"So how's that working out?"

"Yeah, that one," House replied, glancing quickly at Wilson. Then he added cynically, "Figured I'd start with the Lisa Cuddys I know before branching out."

Ruining his fun was about right, though. Just when he'd been getting his footing with their relationship, she had to go and say she was pregnant. They were barely a month into their relationship, too. He wished in a big way that he'd never gone to her place yesterday, that he'd never shoved the coffee in her face after suspecting her sudden aversion to the smell and why. If he'd never gone, then he never would be in this position right now, terrified about the fact that she was pregnant and what the hell that meant, and confronted with the fact that their relationship was probably over. But of course... he would have found out eventually, and probably no matter how he found out, it wouldn't have turned out any different to how this way did. At the end of the day, House didn't want kids and didn't want Cuddy to have this kid and was terrified of the prospect of her having it.

He dropped his hand to his bad thigh and started rubbing it. He wasn't sure when his leg had started aching, but it was definitely aching now. Not badly, but enough to be noticeable. On top of everything else, he was alarmed to find his leg hurt, though he was too caught up in the thoughts whirling through his mind to really be too alarmed. If anything, the aching was a distraction more than a hindrance.

He stopped rubbing his leg to give it a few firm squeezes as he looked at Wilson again. How was it working out? House couldn't even think past his worries to even come up with witty retorts or jokes about this. Mainly because there was absolutely nothing funny or witty about what was going on. He wasn't even sure which was worse - whether he was terrified that Cuddy was pregnant, or devastated that he'd probably lost her. Maybe they were both as worse as each other because no matter which way he looked at it, he couldn't face one situation without having to face the other.

"Not too good," he admitted quietly and bitterly, after a few moments of wondering how to answer Wilson's question. He pressed his lips together, then decided he didn't want to just come right out with what was going on because it was too difficult to verbalise. And besides, he felt a sudden, delayed stab of annoyance at Wilson's remark about relationships being healthy.

"What's all that bull crap you just gave me about how seeing someone is healthy?" he retorted accusingly. "When's the last time you ever had a healthy relationship? As if you of all people would know 'healthy'."

Wilson's only response was a distracted nod when House said he was starting with the Lisa Cuddys he knew. Wilson was used to House making a joke of everything. His tone was anything but humorous, though, which meant this was serious business. And it should be. If House was going to get involved with someone, if he was going to get involved with someone who was not only his boss but one of the few friends he had, then it needed to be serious business. Wilson just wished House sounded less ominous about it.

He started to lean forward when House admitted it wasn't going well, then pulled back defensively when House started attacking his track record in relationships.

"No," Wilson said, shaking his finger at House. "You aren't allowed to deflect now. We're not talking about my love life, we're talking about yours. Because for once you actually have a love life...which is not a phrase I thought I'd be using about you today, if ever.

"It is healthy to form relationships with other people. It's healthy to learn to care about someone other than yourself," Wilson said earnestly. His words were partly defensive because although he was painfully aware of his three divorces, he didn't think he'd been wrong, exactly, to have had those relationships. He certainly didn't think a failed relationship was justification for avoiding trying again.

Mostly, though, he worried about House being alone, and lonely. He worried about what another broken relationship would do to House, but he worried more what it would do to House to remain isolated, brooding, miserable. That definitely wasn't healthy for him.

"You need to be a little more specific than 'not too good'," Wilson said, prodding House back to the real subject. "Because if you pissed her off, well, I'm a pro at getting a woman to forgive minor transgressions." Wilson pulled a face, remembering some of his not so minor transgressions. "And if it's something bigger...chances are I can give you advice on what not to do."

House opened his mouth to bite back at Wilson when Wilson started shaking his finger at him and telling him he wasn't allowed to deflect. But he couldn't get a word in and ended up looking down and away defensively. God, Wilson and his lecturing. Always postulating about what was best for House when Wilson didn't have a clue about what even was best for himself. At Wilson's assertion that it was healthy to form relationships with others, House just rolled his eyes because he'd heard that lecture in various forms, time and time again.

House didn't want to be specific about what was 'not too good'. He didn't want to talk about this... except he did at the same time, because he needed to. Because he didn't know how else to deal with this if he didn't at least use Wilson as a sounding board. He snorted quietly, only wishing that he'd done a minor transgression. The fight he'd had with Cuddy flashed through his mind, of Cuddy crying and slapping him across the face and his own cruel parting words, and House closed his eyes as a quick stab of devastation hit him in the chest. Yeah, if only this was a minor transgression.

He darted his eyes up at Wilson offering to give advice. "Considering you manage to get it wrong every time, no matter how many chances you have, that's not very reassuring," House replied dryly, mainly just to take a stab at Wilson more than anything. And to deflect his own issues. Again.

He relented and lowered his eyes to show he wasn't really wanting to pick a fight. He sighed, then said reluctantly, "It's big."

He met Wilson's eyes again before he sat straighter in his chair. Resting both hands on the handle of his cane, he continued as he turned his eyes away from Wilson once more, "And I'm not sure any amount of advice is going to fix anything. At least, not in terms of our... thing."

House refused to see the pregnancy as part of his 'thing' with Cuddy. There was his relationship and then there was this pregnancy and he so very much wanted to keep them as separate from each other as possible. The problem was, he couldn't because his relationship with her had collapsed suddenly because of the pregnancy. Or who knew, maybe this was inevitable. Maybe he and Cuddy were doomed from the start anyway. That thought made him feel really... depressed.

"Cuddy's pregnant," he said expressionlessly after a short, silent pause.

"You can't win if you don't play," Wilson shot back when House pointed out that he got it wrong every time. "At least I have a chance to get it right. You won't even try."

Although, apparently House was trying now. With Cuddy, of all people. Of course, it didn't matter much what Wilson said anyway. He'd lectured House on this very subject before. Many times. The reason he'd had to repeat the lecture was that House never listened. He wouldn't listen now but Wilson couldn't stop trying. However he was considering just numbering the lectures, maybe recording them. That way he could simply say 'lecture #8' or 'lecture #11.' It wouldn't make House listen but it might save Wilson a few headaches.

Wilson opened his mouth to tell House that 'things' could usually be fixed. It might take some work. Might even take some groveling. But chances were it could be fixed. House picked that moment to announce something Wilson had never expected to hear and he completely lost his train of thought.

"No," he said immediately. He wasn't refuting House's claim; he simply couldn't process the news. "That's not.... How...? What?"

Wilson pressed his hands to the sides of his head and stared at House. The notion that Cuddy was pregnant by House was mind boggling. In fact, Wilson's mind was so boggled he couldn't string two words together. What was really weird was that the word that wanted to slip out was 'congratulations.' He thought it was probably just as well he couldn't speak because he was pretty sure House would hit him with the cane if he said that.

He slid his hands through his hair to the back of his head, still staring. He had a million questions. How did House go from being a stubbornly solitary jerk to dating Cuddy to impregnating her? And when had this all happened?

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm guessing you don't want a baby?" Wilson said when he could form a complete sentence again. "What about Cuddy? Does she want it? Not want it? Does she know what she wants?"

This was exactly why House had been avoiding getting to the point, and not just because he didn't want to verbalise that Cuddy was pregnant: he knew Wilson would react like this. House didn't know where to look or what to do with himself while Wilson reeled from the news.

The 'how' was pretty obvious, though House didn't want to get into exactly how the how had happened. As as for Wilson's exclaimed 'what'... "Yeah," House muttered as confirmation - and agreement to how confounded Wilson's reaction had been - as he looked away.

He only finally looked back to Wilson when asked if he wanted a baby. "When have I ever expressed desire for something like that?" House shot back.

He let Wilson finish off his string of questions, however, inwardly flinching more and more with each one because each 'does she want it? does she not want it?' kept firing home to House the fight Cuddy and he had had the day before. By the time Wilson finished House felt a bit like he'd returned to yesterday, to that horrible feeling of dread he'd felt.

"She knows what she wants," House replied. "And it's definitely not what I want."

House drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to dispel some of the dread that was churning in his stomach. He was trying his hardest to assert distance between himself and the situation, too, so as not to express to Wilson just how emotionally torn he was by this.

"Guess it doesn't really matter what who wants," he continued. "She's decided she's going to have this foetus, regardless how against it I am. Which means she's made her choice." He rubbed his bad leg again, feeling it ache and throb more the more he tried to keep his emotions buried beneath the surface. Then he added, and the remorse in his voice was unmistakable, "We had a fight. It was bad. She lashed out at me, and I pretty much told her we're finished."

"Boy, you never do anything in a small way," Wilson observed, still stunned by House's news.

House never did anything without a generous helping of drama either but he hadn't come to Wilson's office angry and ranting this time. He was subdued and hurting and that usually meant something had affected him deeply. Wilson's gaze dropped to where House was rubbing at his bad leg. That had always been a good indicator of when House was hurting emotionally. His leg always hurt more when he was upset or depressed. Of course, his leg wasn't supposed to be hurting at all after the ketamine but Wilson supposed that the subconscious didn't pay attention to those kinds of technicalities.

"Did you mean it? Do you really want to be finished with Cuddy?" Somehow Wilson didn't believe that. House could be incredibly callous about people and relationships but if he'd gotten himself into a 'thing' with Cuddy, Wilson had to believe that 'thing' meant something to him. He hoped it did.

"Do you care about her? Or was this just a fling that got complicated?"

Even House couldn't deny Wilson's observation. This was definitely no small matter. But the hell of it was, he didn't even have any control over how this situation had turned out. Even the relationship itself with Cuddy had seemed to spiral out of control until he'd found himself falling for her, leaving him no easy way out if things went bad. Which they had. In a major way, just like Wilson had remarked.

House lowered his eyes and looked to the side at Wilson's first two questions. If he took away the factor of the pregnancy, then no, he didn't want to be finished with Cuddy. But he didn't want to deal with Cuddy being pregnant, which meant he couldn't deal with Cuddy. But... he could remember just how cruel his parting words had been, and they hadn't just been cruel to Cuddy, either; he'd found them equally cruel to himself. It was a parting shot that backfired, more or less.

He raised his eyes to Wilson again, at his next two questions. "Caring about people always makes things complicated," he argued. "Especially people you're in a relationship with."

He knew he hadn't really answered Wilson's question. He didn't really know how to. He found it difficult to admit things like that, both to himself and to other people. It was therefore easier to turn it back onto Wilson. "You of all people should know that," House continued.

He sighed quietly and gavehis thigh another small rub, then said, "As for meaning it... Some things are said in the heat of the moment." He squeezed his thigh firmly a couple of times. "But it doesn't matter whether I meant it or not because..."

He drew in a small but sharp breath and held it for a moment, shaking his head almost imperceptibly, feeling completely lost and overwhelmed by the fact that Cuddy was pregnant and how complicated that made the situation. "I don't know what to do," he admitted, hating how vulnerable he sounded.

"It does matter. It matters to you," Wilson said when House said it didn't matter whether he'd meant it. "We're not talking about what Cuddy thinks right now. I don't care what Cuddy thinks." Wilson pulled a face because whenever he said something stupid like that, it always came back to bite him in the ass. "I mean I do care--of course, I do--but you have to decide what you want before you can deal with what she wants."

Wilson rubbed both hands over his face, then gave himself a shake. He was way out of his depth here. Normally he had no trouble telling House what to do...and then watching House not do it. But this...this was a situation Wilson had never dealt with himself and certainly not one he'd ever expected to see House dealing with. And Wilson had only just learned about the whole situation. He needed a little advance warning to do his best work.

"I think you do know what you have to do. And you have to start by talking to her. Talking, not fighting," Wilson said. He was genuinely sympathetic because there was no way he'd want to be having that conversation. Definitely no way he'd want to have that conversation with Cuddy because she could be a little intimidating. Not as scary as House but not a pushover either.

"And...I don't know...have you ever actually thought about being a father?" Wilson knew House's typical reaction to the notion. It was much like his typical reactions to topics like love and relationships--instant and highly negative. But if House was capable of love--and Wilson knew he was--then he should be capable of fatherhood. Probably.

"I know it's not something you want to do, but maybe it's something you could do."

In the midst of his brooding about this, House threw Wilson a brief questioning look when he said he didn't care what Cuddy thought. Despite Wilson clarifying what he meant, House had an urge to probe into how much of a Freudian slip his original phrasing sounded, just to take the focus off himself and the topic of the conversation.

He didn't, though, because Wilson's advice of deciding what he wanted before worrying about Cuddy's decision struck a chord with him. "I don't know what I want," he replied. "If I knew, I wouldn't be here having this conversation with you."

He watched Wilson rub his face, then looked away when Wilson began on the fact that he needed to talk to Cuddy. Talk, not fight. House wasn't all that sure talking without fighting was even possible because Cuddy was headstrong, he was headstrong, he didn't want a child and she did, and he felt trapped and she'd kept claiming he wasn't trapped, and... The whole thing was just a huge, overwhelming mess. Not to mention the cruel words that had been exchanged between each other. Words that couldn't be taken back, no matter how much either of them may not have meant them. House likewise rubbed his face before returning his hand to his thigh to continue rubbing that anxiously instead.

"Talk about what?" House asked sharply. "What we've already talked about?" He was about to add that it hadn't even been a talk because of how it had escalated into a nasty fight but Wilson then added a suggestion that earned an incredulous, defensive look from House.

"I just got shot," he fired back over the top of Wilson telling him fatherhood is something he could do. "You think this is what I want to be dealing with right now? I'm dealing with enough as it is. Some days, I feel like I can't even function properly, so how the hell would I even be cut out for being responsible for a kid? Of course it's not something I could do, even if I wanted to."

He hadn't meant to blurt all of that out, but the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he had a chance to even think about them. Hearing himself say them out loud felt a bit like a shock to the system because he almost didn't fully realise that had been one of his worries, due t being so caught up in a storm of confused thoughts. He fretfully ran his fingers over his chin and mouth, then dropped his hand away with a kind of desperate sigh. Unable to remain sitting because he needed something to do, and not just because his leg his aching, he stood up with his cane to begin pacing Wilson's office.

Wilson gave a helpless shrug when House repeated the fact that he didn't know what to do. Wilson didn't know what he should do either. Normally he'd say that a man needed to take responsibility for the children he fathered whether he'd intended to be a dad or not. It was the way Wilson had been raised. It was what he believed. The trouble was House was not a normal person and Wilson was genuinely worried that forcing House into a situation he didn't want anything to do with would cause more harm than good--for House, for Cuddy and for the baby.

He also didn't know what Cuddy wanted, which, despite the way his comment earlier had sounded, he did care about. He was just hearing all this now, though, and he hadn't had a chance to talk to her, hear her side of the story. Although, if it came right down to it, he'd do his best to protect House because...well, that's just the way it was. He always put House's needs first.

"Whoa, whoa," Wilson interjected when House started going on about the shooting. This was more news Wilson was just hearing, and damn it--he was sure he'd asked House how he was doing. Not that he was surprised that House hadn't confided in him but it was still frustrating.

Wilson watched House begin to pace. His gaze was drawn to the balcony door just as heavy rain drops began to pelt down against the glass and he could hear a low rumble of thunder in the distance. Well, that seemed fitting somehow.

"I get that you don't want to deal with any of this but the fact is you have to make a decision," Wilson said bluntly. "If your issues are what's preventing you from considering fatherhood...well, people deal with personal issues and kids every day. Of course, that means you have to actually deal with your issues."

He raised one hand in an almost apologetic gestures. He honestly didn't see House becoming willing to deal with his issues for any reason and certainly not for a baby he didn't want.

House reeled around on Wilson when he said House had to deal with his issues. God, not you, too, he wanted to snap. Cuddy had been on his case about 'dealing' with his issues, and now Wilson was doing the same thing. He was dealing with his issues, his way. But that didn't mean he wanted to deal with Cuddy having a baby and that certainly didn't mean he'd be any good at being a father, no matter how much he dealt with his issues.

"Yeah, because getting shot is an every day thing to deal with," House shot back sarcastically. At Wilson's apologetic hand gesture, House threw his arm out in frustration. "I wouldn't make a good father. That's what's preventing me from considering it because it's not something I ever intended to consider. Ever."

He dropped his arm to his side and looked away towards the door, and noticed rain pelting heavily against the glass. The more he talked about this, the more confused he was getting... and the more uncomfortable he was getting about talking about it, too, because hearing himself speak was like looking at himself in the mirror and he didn't like facing facts about himself on top of facing the fact that he had to make a decision.

He lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead before he turned around so his back was to Wilson. He looked out the window, watching the rain pour down the glass. "Things were just getting really good, too," he said quietly. "I should've known it wouldn't last. It never does."

"I never said getting shot was normal. I never said it would be easy to deal with, but it is possible," Wilson argued. This was another lecture he'd delivered on numerous occasions. Another lecture House had ignored. He seemed to hoard his psychological scars, like he was almost proud of them. But maybe this time, with the trauma of the shooting, it would be enough to make House consider getting help. Right, and pigs were out there swooping through the rain clouds on their little piggy wings at this very moment.

"Just say the word," he added, because he was a chump and he still, after all these years, believed House could be helped. And because he believed, he couldn't stop from either offering advice or trying to get help for the stubborn jerk no matter how many times House rejected it. "I'll hook you up with any prescriptions you need. I can even refer you to a therapist. I know a couple of good ones. A couple that might even be able to handle a messed up case like you."

Wilson got up from his desk and joined House by the window, standing just behind his left shoulder. He stared out at the rain and let out a frustrated sigh at the wistful note in House's voice. Wilson hadn't heard that...well, not since Stacy. House really was an idiot if he let this chance get away from him.

"Then do something about it. You wouldn't give up on a patient just because the case got complicated. You shouldn't give up on a relationship just because it gets complicated either." Wilson turned his head, ignoring the rain and looking at House. "I don't know if you can make a relationship work. I don't know if you're capable of being a father. But you don't know the answers either."

"I don't need help," House replied curtly.

He felt like he'd been repeating that statement continually for the last month or two, like he was a broken record. He still thought that if he said it enough it really would come true and everything to do with the shooting, and everything else, would go away. While he recognised to a point that things weren't right, he wasn't willing to employ any kind of help because doing that would mean admitting weakness as far as he was concerned. And not just weakness but admitting that he needed to face stuff. He didn't want to face stuff.

He was aware of Wilson moving up behind him, but he didn't acknowledge him. Not until Wilson's spoke, anyway. He lowered his head so he was looking down, then turned his head to look at Wilson. "Except for the part where relationships aren't differentials," he replied. Then he pulled a mock confused look, effectively being sarcastic towards Wilson. "Wait. That sounds like something you would say."

He peered at Wilson with the same sharp look for a moment, then eased off and looked away again, his head hanging low. "That's the problem with not knowing," he murmured. "Being afraid to find out in case I'm right."

And wasn't that a weird thing to think because House always had to be right. But in this case, he really was afraid of what that would mean if he was, at least in terms of being in a relationship with Cuddy. In terms of being a father... well, he still refused to accept that Cuddy was pregnant on most levels, let alone accepting that he had to make a decision about what role he wanted to play in that, if any at all.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to speak a language you understand," Wilson retorted dryly when House pointed out that relationships weren't differentials. He let House's sarcasm go in one ear and out the other, though, because he was serious. House would go to the mat for a patient but he never fought for himself, not really. He'd fight over the little stuff but when it came to the big stuff, the scary stuff, House retreated. He was too afraid.

Wilson glanced at House when he said exactly what Wilson had been thinking--that he was afraid. "Wow," he said softly. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

He scratched his head, then shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked slowly to the other side of the room. He stopped a few feet short of the door to the hall and turned back toward House.

"Okay, so lots of complications here. Maybe you need to ignore the complicated stuff and focus on the most basic question--the one with only two possible answers. That question is do you continue the relationship or not?" Wilson held out one hand. "Choice one: end the relationship now. Result: you're miserable." He held his other hand out to the other side. "Choice two: you continue the relationship. Result: unknown. Maybe you're miserable, maybe you're okay. Maybe you're even better than okay."

He raised both hands in a questioning motion. He felt like his analysis had proven what he already thought--that House needed to talk to Cuddy and try to find a way to make this work. He kind of suspected that the best House could hope for was a little miserable mixed with a little okay-ness. Truthfully, he suspected that was the best House could do in any situation given his personality. But a little bit of okay-ness was maybe enough.

"I know which one I'd choose."

House didn't answer Wilson when he voiced his realisation that House was in love with Cuddy. He didn't look up, either, just kept his head hanging low. No point in denying it because it was true. He was kind of a bit afraid of coming out and confirming it, too. So, he just stayed silent while Wilson made his way across the room.

He looked over his shoulder in Wilson's direction when Wilson began speaking again, though, and half turned on the spot to face him a little more. He still didn't look at him, though, not while he voiced the different options House had. One of the things House could always count on Wilson for was to be his voice of reason, even if House didn't always end up listening to it.

He finally glanced up directly at Wilson when Wilson said he knew what he'd choose. The fact remained that it didn't matter which way House chose to go with this, he wasn't going to be able to ignore this pregnancy. But the fact also remained that he didn't want to end it with Cuddy. He'd had it in his mind that he was going to stick with it for the long haul. He always wondered at the back of his mind just how long the long haul would end up being, but he never expected something like this to come along and rock the boat so ferociously.

After a moment of silence, House lowered his gaze with a small, almost imperceptible nod. Maybe subconsciously, he'd always known what he'd end up choosing, too. Maybe he just needed to hear it out loud to try and help him reach some kind of decision. It wasn't much of a decision because there was still the part where Cuddy was pregnant and he didn't know what to do about that. But as for his relationship with Cuddy...

He turned so he was facing Wilson fully, his eyes settling on Wilson at random intervals between darting them elsewhere. He felt so awkward and uncertain and confused. But he at least had come to a decision about something. He met Wilson's eyes again, then nodded slightly again, a little more assertively.

"Okay," he murmured, more to himself than to Wilson. He drew in a deep breath and stood a little straighter, then tentatively met Wilson's gaze once more. Right now, he felt very grateful to have someone like Wilson to turn to. "Thanks," he offered, still murmuring.

"You're welcome."

Wilson sounded almost suspicious when he spoke because he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was waiting for House to contradict his analysis or simply tell Wilson he was an idiot. He wasn't used to House showing gratitude. Then again, he wasn't used to seeing House in love either. It was a little disconcerting.

"I'm glad you told me about Cuddy...because I was starting to think you were avoiding me. I'd call, I'd stop by your apartment and you never answered." Wilson gave House a small smile, trying to lift his mood just a little. He knew House would brood over everything, perhaps necessarily. He had a lot to deal with. But that didn't mean he couldn't spare a moment to joke around with a friend.

"On the plus side, I actually have cash in my wallet since my expenses have been much lower the last few weeks. It's amazing how much cheaper lunch is when you only have to buy one."

House picked up on the wariness in Wilson's tone. He could understand it, too, because he knew how rarely he expressed gratitude. He was glad Wilson didn't make an issue of it, just like he was glad Wilson didn't make too much of an issue of the fact that he'd been pretty MIA lately. He wasn't about to explain exactly where he'd been those times Wilson had tried to contact him, either. He'd confided in Wilson enough; he didn't need to go into details of what he and Cuddy had been up to, such as their weekend away to Ocean City. Maybe another time he would. But for now, he'd divulged more than enough.

He wasn't in any mood to really joke around, but he did manage a small half smile at Wilson's remark about having money in his wallet. "The plus side to that being that money saved means more money to spend. On me."

He glanced quickly at his watch, then threw an equally quick glance towards the door that led out to the balcony. It would be time to start thinking about heading off home soon, and he really wasn't looking forward to heading home in the pouring rain. He also didn't want to stay too much longer in Wilson's office in case Wilson started steering the conversation back to Cuddy's pregnancy, or even Cuddy herself. House had discussed what he needed to discuss; he didn't need to go into anything else further, not right now. He wanted to make a break for it now while the conversation was diverted and the mood shifted to something a little lighter.

"Guess you can keep that money saved for another rainy day. Which will be tomorrow, if the weather forecast is accurate." He started towards Wilson, adding, "Until then, I should get back to work, seeing I've got a lot of it to avoid."

"Assuming you get to that money before my ex-wives do," Wilson joked dryly.

Wilson raised his eyebrows in an expression of mild disbelief when House said he had a lot of work to avoid. He'd been keeping tabs, mostly by asking Cameron or Chase, and as far as he knew, House had little work to do. Wilson figured House was trying to avoid all the other non-work things on his mind.

Wilson simply shrugged, though, and walked back around his desk to take his seat. He figured he'd gotten House to listen as much as possible for one day and it wouldn't help to push him. Besides, the mess House had himself in wasn't going to get resolved in one day.

"Well, you know where I am, rain or shine," Wilson offered, hoping House would understand that he could talk to Wilson any time about the big stuff. Actually, as caught up as Wilson was with his own work, he wouldn't even mind distractions over the small stuff.

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